


Feeling Again

by thisagentreads



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Angst, Angst and Feels, During s7 e1, Flashbacks, Gen, Past Injury, Past Violence, Prosthetic arms, We need more yoyo fics, and deserves happiness, she's super underrated
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-02
Updated: 2020-06-02
Packaged: 2021-03-03 22:41:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 405
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24513265
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thisagentreads/pseuds/thisagentreads
Summary: Yo-Yo tries out her new arms and deals with some of her trauma.
Kudos: 9





	Feeling Again

**Author's Note:**

> Was anyone else bothered by the fact that Yo-Yo needed a whole-ass surgery to put her metal arms on but in the premiere they just kinda disappeared? Anyways, the scene where she was crying about the fact that she could actually feel her face made me really sad so I decided to write more sadness. Enjoy :)

Yo-Yo looked at her new hands. She didn’t know how Jemma had done it, but they looked exactly the same as hers once did. She turned her wrists so her palms faced up. They looked normal, with these no one would ever know what had happened to her. She remembered all too well the stares of the new agents, they looked at her like she wasn’t as human as the rest of them, like she was broken. Which was true. 

She clenched her fist and could feel her nails biting into her palms. She smiled. Before the accident, that had been her coping mechanism. It had saved her from punching several bosses and making some really bad decisions after she found two of her friends in an alleyway, pumped full of bullets. The pain helped bring her back to the present and control herself. However, metal was cold and unyielding, not that she could feel anything with her previous hands at all. She ran her fingers across the bench she was sitting on, then pulled as if it had burned her. But it wasn’t warm at all. It was cold and smooth. 

The first especially frigid after the accident had been the day May had come back. The Lighthouse had never been warm, but that morning the air temperature in the base was freezing. Yo-Yo had woken up to cold metal biting her shoulders and what remained of her upper arms. She had pulled the blankets up around her, but it’s hard to get warm when you’re surgically attached to practically sub-zero robot arms. She’d laid there, frozen, until Jemma had knocked on the door. 

“Yo-Yo? I just… well, I thought I… May’s back. I just thought you should know.”

“Coming,” she’d croaked out before forcing herself out of bed. She’d grabbed a sweater and a pair of pants from her crate of haphazardly stacked clothes in the corner. She’d winced when her hand brushed her stomach as she took off the shirt she’d slept in. That morning hadn’t been the first time she’d felt broken and defective, nor was it the last, but it was when she realized that she would never be able to be normal again. 

She remembered that feeling, sitting in the corner on the Zephyr, and smiled, her eyes filling with tears. She wasn’t the same, and she never would be, but she was better. And maybe better was enough.


End file.
